Beautiful World
by style xx
Summary: What is love? Where is happiness? Why Shuichi Shindo? Eiri's thoughts on the mysterious little things that make the world beautiful. [EiriShuichi]


_**a/n**: Unbelievable! A canon pairing! I'm sorry if Eiri seems OOC. I tried, but I guess it didn't end up very Eiri-ish. It's a bit too...MUSHY. (gasp and sigh) By the way, for you grammar-nazis out there, be warned that this is like a 'tells his story' type of thing, and I am apt to use the same grammar informalities that often come up in dialogue (like arbitrary switching between the preterit and pluperfect tenses.) NO COMPLAINING._

_Disclaimer: If I were Murakami—actually, never mind. Let's just agree I'm not her and be done with it._

_Beautiful World_

_What is love? Where is happiness? Why Shuichi Shindo? Eiri's thoughts on the mysterious little things that make the world beautiful. EirixShuichi_

* * *

The idea of "love" had always seemed like a simple concept to me. As an author of romance novels, I'd considered myself the medium through which Love itself could take some understandable form in the minds of my readers. It was surprising to me that I could so efficiently write about such a misread topic without having really felt it, myself—which led me to the conclusion that such a thing didn't exist, at all. I'd had it all figured out. Love was simply an obscure idea that, when given the right wording, seemed entirely believable.

I had created a false definition in my head for use in my writing; a stand-in of sorts for the hazy ideas that always floated around my mind. Love in life, as I wrote it, was merely the unsound convolution of Circumstance, Consequence, and Chance. Upon that, all I had left to add was a balance of intriguing plot and flowery words. I may not have understood love, but I knew exactly how to sell it.

My gentle smile had drawn countless women into my bed and twisted them around my little finger, and, with careful use of clever words, I'd left every last one of them thinking it was her fault we'd separated; that I was still The Perfect Man whom she just didn't deserve. What's most despicable is that I'd believed it, too.

Not long after this stage in my life, I met Shuichi Shindo.

Thinking back on our first few days as acquaintances, I realize he'd practically been ready-and-willing from the moment I'd spoken the derailment of his ghastly lyrics. Just like all the others, he had been smitten with me at first glance, but what I couldn't understand was why he, unlike the others, made his way to me, time after time, with a scowl on his face. I had never asked to see him, and he would still visit me often, acting as if he had been dragged to my home against his will.

I was genuinely confused, and the only explanation I could come up with for this situational phenomenon was that Shuichi was simply afflicted by a strange idiosyncrasy. In fact, upon meeting illogical people in society, it was a habit of mine to draw that simple-minded conclusion. I think I had begun to wonder if the word was a contradiction of itself, as so many people seemed to have one, or two, or five. After taking that into consideration, I'd decided that the lack of idiosyncrasies was an idiosyncrasy unto itself, a realization that effectively halted my desire to rationalize. I had settled on leaving it at that; everyone has idiosyncrasies. One of my more prominent ones is the tendency to go on about pointless things.

Having had accepted that Shuichi was just a strange person (a conclusion that I still hold to be true,) I had let him chase after whatever it was that he wanted to achieve, though I'd too often been uncertain of what, exactly, that was. I had resigned myself to the fact that Shuichi would always be a source of my complete perplexity, even as soon as I'd managed to get rid of him for good (I still haven't accomplished this,) and I decided not to allow myself to get so frustrated whenever my mind wanted to understand him. Now I've forsaken the hope that I even will, and I'm satisfied with lending the occasional thought in that direction.

To be honest, I probably hadn't realized how solid our relationship had become before the opportunity to claim my attraction to him a farce was long gone. Clearly, I'd gotten myself into something that was just a bit too wonderful to keep me interested for long.

He'd become this brilliant sunshine in my life...a sickening metaphor, indeed, but I'd also point out that, for quite a while, I had been living a somewhat shadowed existence and that sunshine was hardly a welcome addition. Though I have been called a stick-in-the-mud cynic, I know for a fact that I have never been morbid, so I hadn't necessarily scorned the idea of having "sunshine" joining my otherwise dark lifestyle; I'd just questioned it. I was practically darkness itself; I'd take my car out at night, I liked watching the midnight sky, I always wrote in the dark of my unlit office, and the few memories that defined my existence at that point had all happened in very dark times and places. Shuichi, sunshine boy, had seemed, to me, less likely to warm and comfort and more likely to bring something like sunstroke, or skin cancer; maybe premature wrinkles—you know, I was never fond of metaphors. Could one consider a romance novelist's complete lack of metaphor-writing ability something of an idiosyncrasy, also? I wonder.

I think I had really started getting used to that irritating brightness he takes everywhere with him. At first, of course, I'd hated it. I'd often wondered what in hell gave him the right to follow me around so brightly...an image that I believe lent itself to the fact that I'd started wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. As time passed, though, Sunshine had turned from someone I disliked very much to someone I'd learned to live with, and somewhere along the line, to someone I really couldn't live without.

Once I realized that, I started questioning myself again. What had happened? When, exactly, was the moment in which tolerance had become dependence? At first, I had told myself that my fondness for Sunshine had only been the misconstrued product of mental stress and my superb acclimatization abilities.

The only problem with that theory had been Ayaka. If I was so able to adapt, it should have been extremely easy for me to get used to the idea of having her as my fiancée...but I could never settle with that.

Ayaka was intelligent and responsible. Shuichi was distracting and absurd. It was implausible that I'd gotten used to his presence but not to hers. Again, I had tried to give my predicament rhyme and reason—the sure track to mental suicide where Shuichi is concerned—and ended up telling myself that, as is following with the common clockwork of the human mind, where the presence of an infuriation can slowly become tolerable, a respectable and intelligent person, when all said and done, becomes absolutely unendurable.

The fact that my conjecture suggested that I should have been insufferable to the world notwithstanding; I now know my first mistake had been the existence of thoughts synonymous with "average."

Sunshine has never, in any way, been average.

So maybe, I had realized, that was why I'd been attracted to him. Because he was a little psychotic; just a little off his rocker. There I had accepted him in his role.

I soon realized, though, that acceptance and understanding are two very different things. I just didn't know why Shuichi stayed with me, mostly because my definition of love was so set-in-stone and plain. As far as I had established, in a long-term relationship such as Sunshine's and mine, circumstance was irrelevant; consequence was implausible; chance had long since run its course. This bright boy had come into my quiet world and mucked up all of my views and beliefs, pulling me out of my self-inflicted solitude without either of us realizing it. Tohma had cared too much about my happiness to be really capable of bringing me any; if I had been left to my own devices and given what I thought would make me happy, I'd have been stuck in that illusion forever. It took a selfish brat to force me to like something that I hated but ought to have loved. I figured it out slowly, but soon enough, I'd made a satisfying theory out of it.

This sort of thought was gratifying at first, but suddenly, I was stricken by an insight that was through-and-through nauseating.

Why was I attracted to Shuichi, anyway? Because he'd acted insane once in a while? This seemed like a ridiculous reason to hold affections.

Following this had been a vile sequence of headaches and emotional disarray.

What kind of delicate string had we been walking on? If I would have only found happiness by meeting Shuichi, what were the chances that I wouldn't have been happy? In an instant, my own definition of love seemed to hit me in the gut: Circumstance, Consequence, Chance.

If, by circumstance, Shuichi had been able to finish his lyrics and hadn't gone walking in the park that one night...

If, by consequence, I had decided not to say anything about the lyrics he dropped...

If, by chance, I had been unable to stop my car when he'd jumped onto the street...

It was agonizing to consider. Our insane relationship had been built on the foundation of the very definition I had always considered to be false. It was cruel irony, and it killed me inside every time I thought about it. No matter how you looked at it, we were a couple as frail as the petal of a rose. Wrinkled and blackened under the rain; shredded by the reckless touch of a child. Should something horrible have happened, there didn't seem to be anything that would hold us together.

So what was it that had kept such easily destroyed beauty intact? Attraction? Magnetism? Gravitation? I considered everything...except love. It couldn't be; I wouldn't allow it to be. I had learned to hate this elusive love. All it had done for me was screw with my mind, my soul, and even the quality of my novels (damn it.)

Sunshine had started to complain that I was being distant. That I was ignoring him. What could I have done? Day by day, I was receding into the darkness, shutting my Sunshine out in fear of abnormal transgressions that might destroy what we had established. I wanted to hold him, kiss him; make him happy, but I couldn't make myself act out of who I had been up until then.

This was because my most recent theory had been that the only thing keeping me with my Sunshine was the fact that our relationship was consistent. Ours was a match I had so little faith in that I feared changing the variables (acting affectionate) would push us apart. I wasn't sure why. I just felt that, since he'd fallen for my caustic side, he'd lose interest in me if I wasn't as cold as I'd always been.

I told myself that if Shuichi would only love someone who pushed him away, I would push him away forever.

This forced me to realize an obscenely twisted new depth to love.

I was terrified.

Slowly, my Sunshine was becoming bleak and gray. It was my fault, I knew it was my fault; every icy glance and cold shoulder was my desperate attempt to bring my clingy brat back to me, and each one pushed him further out of reach. It had been the first of few times I'd truly doubted my intelligence, as it should have been so plain how much my desperation was affecting him.

I realized that something unusual was happening.

My same actions had begun to produce different results. Before, my coldness would draw his warmth to me, as if we were the opposite ends of a magnet. I had to be hopelessly blunt to get a moment of solitude. What had changed? I suppose it was when I accepted that I had subconsciously grown into the habit of acting abrasively when I wanted him around that I was awakened to the startling reality that cruelty does not gain affection. Of course, Sunshine, my very own walking idiosyncrasy, had always been the contradiction to the very piece of common sense that I apparently had never received, and I knew he'd finally stopped spoiling me in that respect. I was then able to comprehend what was happening. The fact that he was no longer humoring me in this way was indicative of one simple thing.

Our relationship was falling apart.

I didn't allow myself to panic; I reacted in the way that was natural to me. I grew reticent and quiet, and it was easy to do because he'd stopped bugging me so directly.

My writing had already been slowing, but, after this revelation, I found that I couldn't write at all. Where was I supposed to find inspiration when I was so preoccupied with doing nothing? Consequently, this left me locked up in my office as much as possible, pretending to be hard at work when all I was doing was avoiding my Sunshine...it's contemptible how frightened I was of anything I could say to him. The way I imagined it, any sort of apology that I could have offered to him—any sort of reaction at all—would have resulted in the destruction of what last bit of fondness he might still have had for me.

Tohma was anxious. He kept calling me, asking me to join him and my sister for dinner, to go out and get some fresh air. I ignored him, just as I ignored the assortment of Shuichi's coworkers and friends when they came to confront me about the boy. It should have been obvious to me by then that I was the only one who could bring Sunshine out of his depression, as these unwanted visitors hadn't troubled anyone but me, but I, the mental train wreck that I had become, hadn't done a thing.

I still don't know if he understood what was going on in my mind back then, but regardless, Shuichi continued to offer me small reminders of his dedication. He'd stay there, by my office door, whispering and sometimes even singing softly even though I'd acted horribly and deserved none of it. He'd murmur against the polished wood that it was okay that I had no time for him and that he understood; that he would love me no matter what. He whispered that his despair wasn't my fault and that he never had and never would hold any of it against me. I found myself unable to reply to such irrevocable sweetness; my heart hurt so much that I almost went insane, and so I growled at him to stop spewing this distracting nonsense. I knew he would stop then, because Sunshine would do anything to make me happy.

After that, though he'd stopped bothering me, I'd been able to tell when he was around because he'd always be on the couch, the one on the other side of my office wall, crying quietly. Every choked sob littering Sunshine's beautiful voice made me want to tear my hair out; I would have done anything to make his tears stop. Anything except sacrifice my disgusting pride and reach out to hold him. Instead, I shut myself into an even more extreme degree of voluntary ignorance. This heart couldn't stand to be witness to his anguish for one second longer, and so I retreated into my shell, blocking everything out.

It was because I had become like this that I didn't realize when my Sunshine left me.

Probably a few good days after he'd left, I was conscious enough of the living plane to find a note on my coffee table, written in that loopy scrawl of his. Dazed, exhausted, and having had nearly chain-smoked myself into a coma, I picked it up and read it.

_I'll always love you, but I can't go on living in your beautiful world. Be happy, Yuki._

I stood there and my eyes ran over those lines, over and over, again and again, as if I didn't fully understand. And I didn't. What in the world were these hateful, loving words? I specifically remember my shaky hand drawing another cigarette to my lips as thoughts raced around my head. The flame on the lighter flipped on, missing the stick and flickering against my finger instead, but I had been too numb to comprehend that I was burning myself.

My first thoughts had been muddled and disorganized. That note was so vague; so unclear. Did he think leaving me would make me happy? That much, because of my outward attitude, I was able to believe, but would he also have gone so far as to kill himself? I didn't want to consider it. Suicide...suicide? Shuichi...had committed suicide? I'd never imagined he felt so severely trapped in this inescapable love that he'd take his own life. Had I...had I been so selfish that I just didn't notice it had gotten this bad?

Shuichi had always been reckless. He had always been absorbed in our relationship to an unhealthy degree. He tended not to think things through and acted impulsively all the time. Every passing second, it became more and more believable to me that Shuichi was capable of killing himself.

I thought of how the note had the faint smell of strawberries and morning dew in the forest—like my Shuichi—and how it felt like it had a part of his brilliant soul locked up in this cage of blue ink. It was almost like having my lover close to me again, but I knew he wasn't really there, at all, and so...I let the note fall from my hand.

I...All I knew was that I needed to find Shuichi. My Sunshine. He was nowhere, and I had to acknowledge that something had gone terribly wrong between us. I'd dealt with him the wrong way; treated him as if he was just another sex object I'd used to indulge my riveting narcissism and then be done with. He'd obviously meant more to me than that; far more, and I'd recognized that too late. I'd lost everything because of my spinelessness.

My brain finally registered that I was still burning my finger with the lighter and that my skin was singed; I released my hold in the flicker and it, too, fell to the ground. Repressed emotions finally overwhelmed me. Hot, angry, confused; helpless tears formed in my eyes as I stared at the note I had dropped. I ground my teeth together and wrecked the unlit cigarette. I scowled; the burning tears slowly trailed down my face, and, for once, I didn't try to hold them back.

If I had, I think I would have exploded.

My heart had raced quite a few times in my life. It would race whenever I saw my beloved Yuki, and it was racing when I killed him. I think, once in a great while, it raced when I fucked women and got my narcissistic rush, and I know it always raced when I fucked my Sunshine into wonderful darkness.

I don't think I'd ever felt my heart pound like it did that evening, though. It felt slower, slamming angrily against my chest, dying to escape my body. Slow, deliberated slams. Thud, then silence. ...Thud. Silence. Silence. Silence...thud.

It was so disturbing that I was consciously aware of my heart. I think it was screaming at me to get moving. It was warning me that it would refuse to go on beating if Shuichi's wasn't there beside it.

Incidentally, I began to think again about what love really is.

I hoped that, if Shuichi's intention really was suicide, he hadn't succeeded. Trusting that I was as intelligent as I'd always claimed, I ran through my mind the places that he might have gone to attempt this heinous act. I didn't have the gall to think of his behavior as selfish, as I had always been the selfish one before. All I could do was hope he was okay.

The first place I looked had been at his work building. I'd pushed open the door and saw that everyone except Sunshine was sitting where he or she was supposed to be. They were all wearing these horribly grave faces, as if someone had died. _As if someone had died._

I wasted no time and asked where he was.

When they all heard me, they gave me these cold stares. All at once, I wondered what had happened, what I should say, and what in hell they wanted to do to me right then. I swear, if looks could kill...

The guitarist, Nakano, snarled at me: what did I mean, where was Shuichi?

Their manager frowned at me and told me they should be asking me that.

I told them I hadn't seem him for days, which was a bit of a lie, as I hadn't seen him for far longer, being locked away like I was. More accurately, it had been days since his broken voice had carried through the walls and to my unwilling ears.

They told me they hadn't seen him, either, and didn't seem surprised that he'd finally left me. Nakano told me he'd probably gone back to his own home and that if there was any way to help Shuichi without my assistance, I had better bet that I wouldn't be allowed anywhere near him.

The hatred in his eyes at that moment was mitigated as soon as he got a good stare in with me, and I realized immediately that I must have looked absolutely miserable. Otherwise, I doubt I would have seen that misplaced flicker of sympathy in Nakano's eyes when I did.

I ran a hand through my hair, shifted my weight on my feet, and brushed my dry tongue against the roof of my mouth.

I glanced aside and my nose pulled up in a bitter scowl. I said I didn't think Shuichi would be at his home.

They asked what did I mean.

I told them.

Nakano grabbed me by my shirt, throwing me at the wall, and I let him. I was beginning to think that Sunshine would have been better off with this man who would throw people about for his sake. I recklessly told myself it was all right to let him go; I would only end up causing him more heartache if I tried to save our relationship. Besides, I thought, if he really was dead, it would have been easier for me to have had given up on him before I had to find out.

Nakano asked me what the hell was I doing, and so I growled that he could go find Shuichi because I was tired; tired of the whirlwind of conflicting emotions I'd been feeling since the moment I met him. Tired of my own attitude, fucking tired of being unworthy of such a deep affection as the one Sunshine had given me.

Nakano threw me out of the building, yelling that I had better find Shuichi and bring him back alive. I'm not sure, but I think it was his protectiveness over the boy I'd considered to be entirely man...but something made a surge of jealousy pull me right of my uninformed lapse in determination. I'd kicked Nakano off me and he'd keened forward a bit. At that moment, bearing the weight of his spiteful glare, I felt exhausted out of my mind. I wondered how much more confused my life could get, and I'd even briefly wished I'd never met Shuichi.

But I had, and I was stuck with him. Because, I realized, I needed him. I needed Shuichi Shindo, and I always would. I still do.

I left the place. Beautiful world. He couldn't go on living in my beautiful world. What did it mean? As far as I could tell, it had no clue as to where he'd gone. And it didn't.

Not Tohma, nor Tatsuha, nor Sakuma, nor the oden booth man had seen him. Not even Ask's Aizawa, whom I hadn't planned on asking but had anyway because he'd been walking up and down the street in front of my home, looking devious, knew anything. He smirked "no" and I had almost opted to kick the crap out of him just because I didn't like his face. I restrained myself.

I wondered why I'd never met Sunshine's family or even gotten their home number. I also wondered if it would make him happy if I wanted to meet them. I told myself that if he were still alive, I would have to ask him.

I found his home and nearly slammed the door down. It had occurred to me that he probably wouldn't have gone back home if he wanted to end his life dramatically, but I had to check anyway.

His parents and sister were ecstatic to see me, even at the inconvenient hour, and I was immediately bombarded with questions of how I was faring with their hopeless son. By this, I realized that Sunshine probably never visited home, as his absence was neither alarming to them nor the least bit unusual.

I asked them had they seen Shuichi and they quieted down. They said No, they hadn't, but I was not to worry, because Shuichi always made amazingly fast recoveries. I'd agreed that he did always recover quickly, but I didn't add that, because of my idiot behavior, I might have just destroyed that.

I hadn't stayed there for long. The sister's eyes were exactly like his, and I couldn't bear looking at them.

After that, I'd started looking in any place that came to mind and, I admit, they were all advocated on a completely arbitrary basis. In other words, I visited just about every dark alley and corner in Tokyo with no real lead or direction. I must have been out for six or seven hours before I started getting tired. It was beginning to seem futile, looking for my Sunshine in the dead of the night. It was.

I'd returned home, because I needed cigarettes if I didn't want my nerves to be permanently shot. I didn't want to be selfish, but I knew I'd never find Shuichi if I didn't pause to calm down. It would have been an unnecessary encumbrance.

It had taken my shaking hands a good minute to light the damn stick.

I'd fought the heaviness in my eyelids and was about to go out again to find him. I was so tired; completely wiped out. I wasn't about to collapse, but I felt terribly flimsy.

Just as I'd set my indolent hand on the doorknob, I heard a small noise. In all honesty, I shouldn't have been able to hear that quiet thud, but with my lethargy and the eerie silence from Sunshine's absence had come heightened sensitivity.

I turned slowly and tried to find where the sound had come from. I walked slowly about my home, body threatening to fall asleep with every step I took. I wondered where my resolve had gone and when my head had started to feel so light. I'd checked the living room, the bedroom, the kitchen, and the bathroom. I even checked my own office, but I didn't find anything. I reluctantly returned to the living room, about ready to collapse and...

I froze when I looked out the window. The balcony...

My feet wouldn't move. I couldn't move them at all. My jaw slacked and the cig almost feel from my mouth. There, sitting against the balcony wall, eyes closed, h...holding a gun to his head...

Sunshine.

I almost panicked, I almost saw stars. Almost. But I quickly realized something. He did look peaceful, as if he was ready to leave this earth, but there was something off about him. The gun was against his head, but not all the way...his head was tilted at an odd angle...his hand was slack and the gun was...loose...

He was asleep. He'd fallen asleep with a gun against his head.

Immediately, I leapt forward and knocked his wrist down, grabbing the gun from him and tossing it far, out of reach. He woke up instantly, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I heard his voice in the form of a quiet yelp. He trembled a bit, like a confused newborn, and his dazed blue eyes blinked rapidly.

It took him a moment, but when he realized who I was, he made a choked noise in his throat and started crying. My arms went around his small shoulders and he clutched tightly onto my shirt. I was taken by a vicious headache but I still let him blubber into my chest. It felt good to have him near me again.

He sobbed against me that he'd missed me, that he was lonely. I had been silent, but at this, I managed to ask: if he'd missed me, why in hell was he trying to kill himself? His body stilled at that and he spoke again, so calmly that I had to worry a bit.

He said he'd wanted to kill himself and that he'd held the barrel against his head for hours, but he couldn't pull the trigger. He'd kept telling himself to wait for me just a little longer before he went through with hit...to wait just one minute longer...and another...and five more...until he'd fallen asleep.

So he hadn't really wanted to kill himself. He was just crying for me, waiting for me in the darkness, where he knew I would find him.

I clenched my teeth and held my Sunshine tighter, like I would never let him go. I told him he was a moron and a fucking imbecile. I called him names, but he knew it was just my anxiety. The way I was embracing him and the small crack in my voice were enough to let him know I hadn't meant any of it. He apologized and begged my forgiveness for being so stupid and thoughtless, but I hoarsely told him to just shut up and stay there with me.

He was silent and soon fell asleep, the cool mid-night breeze fluttering through his light hair. Kissing him seemed inappropriate at that moment, so I only held him in my lap and protected him from the world. He was sleeping, but he seemed happy again.

God. I still don't understand what love is.

If you asked me what I learned from that experience, I guess I'd tell you...nothing, really. I'm still unnecessarily cold toward Shuichi sometimes, and I saw a lot of things I neither believe nor benefit from saying. I seldom tell him that I love him and I never get mushy and lovey-dovey, because it's just not me.

But Sunshine understands that; he understands that I'm just being myself, and he continues to be himself, too. This way, neither of us has strayed too far out of ourselves, and our relationship is intact. What had I been so worried about anyway? I think that whole stage in our relationship had just been insecurity on my part. We may have been built up on a frail chain of events, but why be scared of it? Watching Sunshine from time to time has made me appreciate instead of fear the intricacies of chance. His dedication to me is one that follows emotion, an obscurity beggaring description, rather than the solid path set out by situations that make any amount of sense.

How does someone like me fall for a brat like him? What could a cold, callous stiff love about the smile of an unrefined boy? Why are both of us...guys? Simply put, our attraction doesn't make sense. Ayaka and I would have made sense; Shuichi and I don't make sense at all. So, tell me. Love...is it really something that should make sense? Truth be told, isn't it an unusual, nonsensical friendship like Shuichi's and mine that makes this world slightly more beautiful?

Love is still a mystery. Sometimes, when I feel a little poetic, I like to think of it as something of a chemical reaction; the incorporation of two mutually exclusive events; the mysterious phenomenon you get when combining selfishness with selflessness. That's not exactly it, though; it has no real definition. Nothing that can be versed in words, I don't think. It's like an indescribable, unreachable place: the end of a rainbow, or where the sky meets the sea. I really don't believe anybody can find what love truly is, but it'll probably always be a goal that seems just out of reach.

The one thing I figured out is that anyone who looks for a definition of love is someone who hasn't felt it. Because once you're in love, you automatically know it. Nobody has to tell you what you're feeling and you no longer feel the need to understand any of it.

I guess it's natural. You can't really be told how to fall in love. Maybe it's better that way.

In the end, who really cares what love means?

I've had a nice life. Given, it's been a bit bizarre, but I'm okay with that. I've had my share of everything. Well, almost everything. You wouldn't believe what Sunshine has been saying recently. He wants to adopt. The nerve...! Honestly...my home is going to become a brat cave...

Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. My Sunshine is very nurturing, and I'd be able to officially stake my claim as the man in this relationship. I know, I know. I can't believe he actually thinks sometimes that he's the masculine one. A few abnormal sexual experiences aside (which I do not want to discuss,) I have always been the man between us. Sunshine has even started to nag like a woman, too. According to him, I'm supposed to quit smoking one of these days.

Other than parenthood, there isn't much else I can see myself doing with my life. Maybe marriage. We'll see.

I guess I've lost a lot of the youthful desire for adventure. Not that I really had a lot before. What I mean to say is...there's no secret crush to chase after, no new career path to go down. No aspirations to make money, because I've done enough of that already, and no need to volunteer my service, just because I'm not a very giving person. You know you've really grown when you feel like it might be alright if you died in your sleep.

Not that I want to die. When it comes down to it, there just aren't people in this world who really want to die. They may hate their lives, but I don't buy the bullshit that anyone would prefer dying to life getting better. And, if you ask me, understanding that is exactly the support that love gives us. Even if I don't understand love, I know it's here inside me somewhere.

Sure, I'm a little hardheaded when it comes to relationships, but once in a while, when I can overcome my stubborn pride, I give him a no-reason kiss. Over sweet words and over sex, I think it's those little no-reason kisses that make him the happiest.

It's not only him, either. Life can be slow, but it's bright with Sunshine at my side. Now that I'm wiser and now that I can actually see my Sunshine's...Shuichi's happiness, I'm contented, too. I hate being trite, but I've no reason to lie. Because of Shuichi Shindo, I'm a little happier every day.

Yeah...

A little happier every day.

* * *

-end-

* * *

_**a/n:** Sorry, about the OOC Eiri...I mean...I tried...but, as it turns out, he's difficult for me to write, especially when I'm dealing with love and happiness and such what. ;-; What am I to say? I'm not usually a sucker for happy endings but I was this time!_

_Eiri: A happy ending? (Lights a cig and leans back, looking extremely gay) I'm totally offended._

_But...review anyway!_


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